Slow Dancing in a Burning Room
by VampirePam
Summary: Tag to 107, "Play the Man."  Mike goes to Harvey's apartment after the fight. They come clean about how much they've hurt each other and decide to give whatever it is they have together a real go.


Harvey sat on his sleek, leather couch, staring straight ahead, sipping a truly magnificent scotch, and feeling truly melancholy. For the first time, the cold luxury of his apartment brought him no comfort; every polished, chrome surface seemed to reflect back an image of himself that he didn't want to see, the same image Mike saw tonight: that of a man who would call someone weak for refusing to tear down a friend to win a contest; a man who was too busy with his own problems to offer someone he cared about any real, honest advice; a man who'd forgotten a long time ago that there was anything beyond winning.

Harvey pulled himself up off the couch in what felt like slow motion, as if the alcohol and the weariness of the day had settled like sediment in his bones, and dragged himself toward the record player; nothing less than the great Billie Holiday singing the blues could properly express his mood, he decided. Harvey then got out his well-worn record of "God Bless the Child," flicked the needle into place, and let Lady Day's smoky, heartbroken voice wash over him.

Just as Billie had begun singing about how the strong gets more while the weak ones fade, there came a knock at his door. When Harvey had finally managed to walk over and fling it open, he was only mildly surprised to see Mike standing there, looking about as bad as Harvey felt.

Mike trudged past him into the apartment without waiting for an invitation and sat down heavily on the couch, rubbing his face in his hands, still not looking at Harvey even when he finally raised his head.

"I didn't think I'd see you again tonight," Harvey began, staring at Mike and swirling his scotch round in his glass.

"I didn't want to come," Mike responded truthfully. "I wanted to get well and truly wasted and wake up in Rachel's bed tomorrow. I wanted to do something to actually earn the disappointed way you looked at me tonight. But I guess I'm even a failure at that, because here I am."

"Yeah, well, I think when it comes to hurting each other, we both came out big winners tonight," Harvey said bitterly.

Mike turned his head to look up at him, and Harvey could see the flash of guilt in his eyes. "What do you want, Mike?" Harvey asked, taking another sip of his scotch, but keeping his eyes locked on Mike's. "If you have any thoughts of yelling at me some more about what kind of person you think I am, then you can get the fuck out of here right now. Cause it's been a really crappy day, and I'll tell you honestly, I don't have the energy."

"Yeah, well, you're not the only one who's had a crappy day," Mike said, getting up to fix himself a scotch from the sideboard, then whirling around once more to face Harvey. "You know, if you'd taken five seconds to really think about the mock trial instead of giving me some fortune cookie advice, you'd have known that I couldn't win your way."

"The law's not all fun and games, Mike," Harvey said. "A lot of times it's damn difficult, and you have to do things that you'd rather not think about at night to win the case and help the client. Because at the end of the day, that's what all the yelling and dirty tricks are for: doing your best for the client - the ordinary person who's putting their future in your hands. If you aren't willing to do everything in your power to help them win, then you have no right being in this business, and that's a fact."

"My obligation to the client is to be the best lawyer I can be," Mike retorted. "And if that's different than the best lawyer you can be, then so be it. I can't count the number of times that me going the extra mile and actually _caring_ for that very client about whom you profess to be so concerned has gotten us a win. And yeah, maybe my way lost today, but that doesn't mean it's not a valid strategy."

"Five, ten years down the road, when you've won a stack of cases and established a reputation, then you can be whatever kind of lawyer you want to be," Harvey replied. "But right now, you're an associate. That means you need to do what we tell you when we tell you to do it; it's about loyalty and a willingness to learn and push yourself, and you failed on all counts tonight." 

Mike sighed and took a long sip of his scotch. It was a few minutes before he spoke again. "You know, us disagreeing about what kind of lawyer I need to be? That's not really what this is about."

"Okay, hotshot, you seem to have all the answers tonight - what is it about, then?" shot back Harvey sarcastically.

"It's about us thinking we could just have sex and work together - no rules, no commitments, no complications - without somebody getting hurt. Because, Harvey? You calling me to the office in the middle of the night to work on a merger you messed up because you were too busy screwing your opposing counsel to notice she was busy screwing you over? That hurt."

"Yeah?" Harvey challenged. "Well, you running to that skinny blonde from your past every time things get a little difficult? That hurts me.

"That just proves it, then - neither of us appears to be any good at this 'colleagues with benefits' thing we've been trying out. Honeymoon's over, Harvey."

"So what now?" Harvey asked, hoping Mike had the answer because he sure as hell didn't.

"Now," Mike said slowly, taking a few steps toward Harvey, "We can either break things off completely...or give this thing between us a real go."

"You mean be exclusive," Harvey said, making sure he was reading this right.

"Yes," Mike said immediately. "It's the only way it can have a chance of working."

"Go big or go home, huh?" Harvey asked with the hint of a smile.

"Something like that," Mike admitted.

They stared at each other for a few minutes, neither speaking. Finally, it was Harvey who took a step forward and said definitively, "I'm in if you're in."

Mike smiled and took his own step forward, formally extending his hand toward Harvey as if inviting him to shake it. Harvey flashed his shark-like grin and grabbed Mike's hand, but instead of shaking it, he yanked him forward into a passionate kiss.

After Mike had let out an initial laugh of surprise, he eagerly returned the kiss. As Mike wrapped his arms around Harvey's neck, Harvey could feel all the tension and hurt slowly melting out of both of them, to be replaced by a surge of warmth that soothed away all the weariness the day had brought.

Never moving his lips from Mike's, Harvey slid his hands down Mike's back to his thighs and quickly lifted him up. Mike instinctively wrapped his legs around Harvey's waist and deepened the kiss as Harvey carefully maneuvered them both back toward his luxurious double bed.

Harvey tumbled Mike back onto the comforter, and the second he had thought of remove his tie, Mike had used it to pull him down into another kiss, sweet and lingering this time. When Mike pulled back a few inches, Harvey looked into his eyes and was startled and touched at the absolute trust he saw there. He knew at that moment he would do everything in his power not to betray that trust.

Mike reached a hand up to slowly run his fingers through Harvey's hair as he said softly, "I missed you today."

Harvey smiled and when he said, "I missed you, too," he realized just how much he meant it.

"And Harvey?" Mike asked, sliding his hand down to rest on Harvey's cheek as his expression became suddenly worried, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said what I did about not liking who you were as a person. That was way over the line, and I didn't mean it.

"I know, kid," Harvey said, placing his own hand over the one which still rested on his cheek. "And for whatever it's worth, I'm sorry, too. I love...um, that you care so much."

Mike's eyes widened infinitesimally in response to what Harvey had so very nearly said, but the weight of the almost confession hung in the air between them for only a few seconds before Mike leaned up to kiss him and desire overtook them once more.

It was only much later, when Harvey was drifting off to sleep with Mike in his arms and the moonlight filtering in softly through the curtains, that he heard it, so soft it was barely even the ghost of a whisper: "Me too, Harvey."


End file.
